


Verde Agua de Mar

by amyponders



Series: Hvitserk one-shots [5]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkwardness, Canon Related, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Childbirth, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cute, Drama & Romance, Español | Spanish, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Love at First Sight, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Nightmares, Nudity, Partial Nudity, Pregnancy, Raiding, Reader-Insert, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Requested, Romance, Selkies, Spain, Supernatural Elements, Vikings, dont ask just go along with it, inaccurate mythology, not to get too shape of water on y'all, sort of canon related bc of that spain episode?, spanish spoken, this is the weirdest thing i've written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 14:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30107676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: As he raids a seaside town abroad, Hvitserk stumbles upon a mysterious girl about to give birth in a cave and he realizes that she's just what he's been missing.
Relationships: Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk (Vikings)/You, hvitserk x hispanic reader, hvitserk x selkie reader
Series: Hvitserk one-shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127210
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Verde Agua de Mar

**Author's Note:**

> requested by: @lilosstuff, I'm so sorry if this is not what you had in mind 😅 It turned out to be more angsty than fluffy, but it's still cute, I think? Tho I'd totally understand if you never request anything from me ever again 😂
> 
> a/n: HUGE thanks to my fantastic beta @xbellaxcarolinax, idk how she manages to give me just what the story needs every time I hit a wall but I'm gonna go ahead and call this a collab, okay? 🥺💚

moodboard by: @punkrocknpearls, thank you for this fabulous edit, it fits the story just right 💚 ~~and thanks for putting up with my indecisive ass 😅~~

[spotify playlist](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fplaylist%2F1GgT7n1hVlpkD8DpiTJA7f%3Fsi%3DrEPiVyHGTHqf6pBqyyaQXQ&t=OWI0N2IwMTk0MzAzMTRlNzlhOTE5OTNlMzkzNDE3NDRmODY3NDg3Yyw0NTdjYWI0ZmY4N2FlOTgyZjBmMWYwNzA0YWQwZGZjZTA0YTA1NmE2&ts=1616012085) (the story is particularly inspired by these two songs that I love: [Más y Más by Robi Draco](https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfgtCDILGkk) & [Open Water by blessthefall](https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLvXOKm_Fog))

••━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •••• ━━━━━ ••

Hvitserk strolled along the shoreline of this foreign land, his boots slick with blood sliding over the tiny dark rocks of the pebbly coast. Despite that one small similarity it held with the cold lands he’d roamed in countless voyages through all the trading ports of his native Scandinavia, this beach could not look any more different from the steely grey ones that were most familiar to him. 

Here, there were no soft ripples in a tranquil fjord. In Hispania — as he’d learned this place was called — the sea battered against the shore constantly; its foamy water spritzing Hvitserk’s face in a baptism of salt. The breeze swayed the few bushes that delineated the boundaries of the beach and the hot sun shone brightly in the center of the firmament with the intensity of a thousand angry fires. It warmed his skin on contact and made more sweat drops drip out from his pores than his elaborate fighting routines in battle could ever procure.

It was this same sun — so absent from the pale vastness of his homeland — the one making all the colors around him pop like nothing he’d ever seen before. Everything seemed more vivid, more alive. He couldn’t remember the infinite sky ever being that blue or the puffy clouds that white, or the blood covering his light leather armor that crimson.

He inhaled deeply; even the air felt foreign. It was much more humid and thick than what he was used to, but somehow he didn’t hate it. With no one around in sight, Hvitserk smiled melancholically to himself, gazing across the arresting landscape, taking in its virgin, almost oppressive beauty. 

Despite the vision in front of him, Hvitserk felt a little disappointed in Hispania. The blood of Ragnar painted the inside of his veins with a longing desire for adventure. He had barely made port in this strange country a few hours ago and overtaking this fishing town had been way too easy for his liking. After having sailed with Bjørn, Floki, and Rollo across the tempestuous black sea, itching for weeks to step foot on the land, he realized that raiding it had been nothing but another meaningless routine. 

It didn’t fulfill him as it once did, which was a problem because there was a part of him — one that he constantly fought to keep under wraps — which longed to settle down with a good wife and have his house bustle with children and be desolate no more. This side of him made him feel conflicted and inadequate, given his history of tragic romances. So for now he threw himself into the throes of battle to keep his mind from thinking too hard about what his heart was missing.

Hvitserk’s muscles felt weary and his skin was sticky and damp with blood and sweat so a refreshing swim was sure to make him feel brand new. He wandered up to a secluded cove on the other side of the beach where the waves didn’t assault the shore so brashly. Once there, he dropped the belt that held his sword and daggers in place and he removed all the leather that constricted his chest. His shirt and trousers reached the small pebbles some moments before he left behind his boots to feel the texture of the stones underneath the balls of his feet.

The brine water was warm but significantly less hot than the air and his body welcomed the cleansing wash of the waves lapping against his body. He cupped the translucent liquid in his hands and rubbed the blood off his face with a pleasured groan. It felt good to reclaim himself, the normal Hvitserk of every day, the one who laid dormant whenever the sanguinary berserker came out in a rage.

There he stayed for almost a half-hour until he perceived the skies turning to a menacing leaden silver. Within a few minutes, the sea on the distant horizon began to roil and Hvitserk knew that the storm’s landing was imminent. That’s why at first, he wasn't sure if the noise he’d heard had been even human. But he heard it again sharp and clear. 

And even though the wind slammed against his ears something fierce, the shrill noise cut through the air and made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. He made haste to shore and slipped his trousers on in a rush just as the clouds opened up their heavenly levees to unleash a fierce downpour on him, the only person around for miles. Hvitserk grabbed the belt with his weapons in one hand and his boots and shirt in the other, forsaking his leather armor in favor of running behind the bushes to look for cover and for the source of that strange noise.

He didn’t have to wonder for much longer because the second he stepped behind the shrubs, his eyes detected the concealed entrance to a cave, just a few steps removed from the waterline and he set foot inside without stopping to think of the danger. Even shirtless, with pants half-open, and his weapons clutched awkwardly, Hvitserk wasn’t afraid of any man he could encounter in that hole. 

But what he saw was no man. Shrouded only in a fluffy animal hide wrapped haphazardly around her naked body, Hvitserk spotted the protruding belly of a soaking-wet girl about his age. Her skin was smooth and shiny like a seal’s and she looked as if she’d just been washed ashore to undress with trembling fingers in haste. 

Hvitserk’s eyes traveled upwards from her spread legs to her round hips and bare breasts until they met her gaze and she recoiled, the pain and the confusion mashed into one single gesture deforming her exquisite features. He stood awkward and frozen in the entrance of the grotto almost in a trance. Despite her grimace, she was the most fetching creature he’d ever seen. 

Didn’t his mother use to tell him stories of mythical women that roamed the sea enchanting men? For a moment Hvitserk wondered if she could’ve been a marooned selkie before deciding that he was too old to believe those stupid fish tales anymore. He wasn’t sure of how to proceed, whether to approach her or to back away and into the storm outside. That is until she shrieked again and uttered one single word in a tongue he did not know. Still, he’d heard it enough times in battle during the day to know what it meant.

_ “Ayuda!” [“Help!”]  _

It was a cry for help. Both of her hands cradled her stomach and she pressed on it, perhaps hoping to accelerate her contractions, and her features twisted once more.

“Hey there!” He uttered in his mother tongue and she raised his face to look at him and all he could see was pure distress swimming in the liquid iris of her unnaturally beautiful eyes.

Whether it was because of her state or because of his intruding presence, it was unclear. Hvitserk was willing to bet that it was both. Normally, when faced with a cowering enemy, he would laugh, thrusting his weapon without remorse into their stiff bodies to extinguish the light from their eyes. 

Yet, this time, Hvitserk got rid of his belongings by pure instinct. He discarded everything he was holding for the second time that day and he stumbled to kneel by her side. There was something about her calling him forward as if she were a siren and he were nothing but a malleable sailor. 

“I’m Hvitserk. What’s your name?” 

She shook her head in a gesture that probably meant what he was already suspecting. _ I don’t understand.  _

So he touched a hand to his bare chest and repeated. “Hvitserk.” A moment later, she mimicked his gesture with a quivering hand and told him hers: “Y/N.”

An intense cry followed suit and he found himself wincing. If her screams were any indication, she was in excruciating agony. He’d seen men die in battle by the dozens and their keen wailings never bothered him. If anything they fueled his precise movements meant to slake the bloodthirst of the brutal warrior inside. 

But the way her big eyes shone with crystalline tears tugged at his heartstrings. She was not an enemy on the battlefield; she was but a young woman in pain and alone who only needed someone to comfort her.

“What are you doing here?” When Y/N didn’t answer he pointed to her and gestured to the improvised shelter of this poor parturient girl.

_ “Tribus de bárbaros! Hombres malos!” [“Tribes of barbarians! Bad men!”] _

Hvitserk swallowed when she nodded her head in the general direction of their boats, anchored far away in the horizon. She must’ve been running from his people when her birth pains started. He had no idea where the father of this babe was or whether he was going to burst in at any second to find him there. If he did, Hvitserk was sure a fight would ensue. Which was fine by him. If there was one thing he was good at, it was fighting. 

Then another thought crawled into his mind: perhaps it had been one of his own, the one to sire this child forcefully... Hvitserk seemed to remember another raiding party that had sailed from Kattegat some nine months earlier. With a clench of his jaw, he discarded the notion, not wanting to grapple with that possibility and its implications at the moment. 

Instead, Hvitserk focused on her; he scoured the place for anything that could help ease her agony but there was nothing but solid rocks. 

Y/N kept huffing anxious breaths through her nose.

“What do I do?” In his panic, Hvitserk touched her anguished face and then her neck and shoulders briefly, not sure of where to put his hands or how to console her. “What can I-”

_“Ayúdame!”_ _[“Help me!”]_ Y/N snatched his hand in hers and held onto it while she huffed and strained. 

_ Oh, fuck. He was in over his head. _

He’d never seen a woman in childbirth, so he had no clue of what to do. He made a point to sneak out of the Great Hall whenever one of Aslaug’s servants delivered a baby, their shrill shrieking more annoying than a horde of banshees. Besides, every time they gave birth, Hvitserk could only think of Margrethe’s demise, and Thora’s miserable end, and Amma’s untimely departure to the halls of Valhalla, and how much he wished he could have made their bellies swell with his children before they died. 

He used his own discarded shirt to pat dry her face and neck. Her entire body was drenched in sweat and saltwater and he wanted to absorb all of it but he stopped when he realized she probably wouldn’t want him to be touching the rest of her naked body so intimately.

There was stillness for a while, an extended moment where she merely gazed down at her belly and inhaled in a steady manner but Hvitserk knew that the worst was probably yet to come. He turned his head to the outside to see the rain still pouring down aggressively. The tides had risen enough to not let them walk out without at least having to waddle their calves through swirling water. 

The wind was making high-pitched noises that resonated on the walls of the cave. If she had anyone at all in the world, they weren’t coming back now. And there was no way he could take her into town to see the nearest midwife. She couldn’t walk like that and he couldn’t carry her for so many miles either. He would just have to help her through it and pray to Freyja that she would bestow Y/N her protection. 

Another cry coming from her parted lips made him crease his forehead in sympathy but the only thing Hvitserk could think of doing to ease her suffering was to hold her and make sure she felt his presence there with her. It wasn’t like he’d ever seen this woman before in her life but he felt the urgent desire to protect her and make sure that she and her baby were alright. 

Her breast started heaving again and he decided to sit behind her and cradle her body. Much to his surprise, she sank her back into his chest and rested her head on the crook of his neck. By Odin, her frame fit perfectly inside his arms. There was no logic behind his thoughts but Hvitserk found himself wishing to be the father of this child and the husband of this sweet girl. 

He experienced a strong desire to deliver the baby and snatch them back to his home in Kattegat with him. Hvitserk knew he could protect them and care for them in a special way. He thought about how whenever one of his nieces or nephews ran with wide grins into his open arms he felt half of his heart swell with pride and the other half wither with sadness and longing. He’d wanted to be a father for so long that this situation was almost tragically comical. 

Her whimpers increased by the second, her hands reaching out to grip tightly at his forearms. Hvitserk almost yelped in pain at the deadly slash of her fingers against his skin, her strangely sharp fingernails ruthlessly digging into his soft alabaster flesh and drawing scarlet blood.

But Hvitserk had no further time to register the strength of her hands nor the thin stream of blood running down his arms as a wave of pure panic settled over his frame once she began to cry out again. Her back arched away from him as she tilted her head back to howl towards the heavens.

“What do I do?!” Hvitserk asked for the second time in terror. 

The feeling of pure dread seeping into his bones was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, not even on the eve of battle. War had always come too easy to him. And yet, here he was, afraid of losing a complete stranger he’d only just met. Hvitserk shifted away from her, being mindful to set her carefully against the rocky cavern wall. 

He looked between her perspiring face and the  _ thing  _ poking out from between her legs with anxiety. He could only watch in horror at the sight before him, her body expanding to release the child that was fighting his way into the world. He could barely make out the head covered in the blood and juices of its mother, her hands grabbing for purchase against dirt and sharp gravel. 

_“Ya viene!”_ _[“He’s coming!”]_ She squealed through gritted teeth, her eyes screwed tightly as tears leaked down her flustered cheeks. 

There was a word he would hear the midwives yell right before he’d make haste to leave the Great Hall...

“Push!” He urged as he threw aside the animal pelt she was half-hiding under to place his hands between her legs, awkwardly cupping together to secure the baby’s fall. “Push, Y/N!” Somehow, despite the language barrier, she knew what he was asking of her and she complied reluctantly, her teeth gritting so harshly he thought she might shatter her jaw.

Three powerful screams later and the child slipped from his mother’s body and into Hvitserk’s waiting hands. Sharp cries engulfed them still as the cave walls echoed with the baby’s wails. The boy had a healthy pair of lungs.

“It’s a boy!” A laugh burst from Hvitserk’s lips, his eyes raking over the tiny wrinkly human in his arms. 

The baby’s skin was flushed, little legs kicking in the air as his arms reached for something to hold on to which they found in Hvitserk’s long hair. Thick braided strands were fisted in his chubby little hand, his toothless mouth wide open as his cries battled against the thunderous rain.

Hvitserk face scrunched at the dull ache blooming on his scalp as the baby tugged on his braids mercilessly. Laughing, he ripped his hair away from the newborn's fingers, bringing his large thumb to swipe down his tiny button nose with another smile curling on his lips. 

“He’s precious.” He spoke softly, his instinct telling him to rock the babe in his arms in the way he’d seen his mother do with Ivar many times but the baby continued his crying fit. He wanted his mother’s bosom and he couldn’t blame him.

Hvitserk brought his mossy green eyes to Y/N and found her looking back at him with a tired loving gaze and a lazy smile on her lips as he engaged with her son.

“I think he wants you.” He muttered sheepishly, returning the smile and feeling his heart accelerate under her stare. “And he’s starving.” The baby easily slipped into his mother’s arms, tiny lips latching quickly onto her bountiful chest. 

Y/N hugged her child closely, her eyes closing and her chest rising and falling in exhaustion. Pressing light kisses over her son’s head, she brought her watery eyes to regard Hvitserk, bowing her head in reverence. “Gracias.” She uttered, the foreign word bleeding with her thanks. 

A warm feeling took hold of him and Hvitserk leaned forward to kiss her cheeks innocently then he wiped his hands on his trousers before handing her his shirt to swaddle the baby. He moved again to sit beside her, his arm curling over her shoulder as his cheek rested on her sweaty brow.

It was peaceful to watch the child be nourished by his lovely mother. He could feel her damp skin against his, and how her long lashes tickled his neck when she turned to nuzzle against him. Gods, her allure was palpable and bewitching.

But their peaceful moment was interrupted by the restless sea. In the midst of their commotion, he’d forgotten all about the tempest outside. The tides that licked the shore were so high now that in mere seconds the water reached them to carry away the few objects inside the cavern that it could find in its path. 

Hvitserk feared for their safety so he grabbed Y/N and made her stand up. He embraced her softly but tightly as she tucked the baby in the crook of her elbow. They turned their back on the cave’s entrance to hop over to the high ground of the rocky recess. But the angry sea came rushing in, hitting his back like a traitorous enemy and everything turned black.

  * • ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •••• ━━━━━ ••



Hvitserk woke up abruptly and he sat up in bed seizing the sheets to anchor himself. For one miserable moment, he clung to the vivid bad dream and he felt wretched and empty. He breathed in and out of his nose while the vision slipped away from his mind like muddy water between his fingers. 

Then a warm hand slid across his naked chest and touched his cheek and he broke into a lopsided smile. His treasured wife brought her enchanting lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, her breath brushing against his light mustache and he groaned in pleasure. Y/N grabbed his neck with strong fingers to make him focus on her and not on his often turbulent mind and she stared into his pupils. 

_“Tus ojos, amor.”_ _[“Your eyes, my love.”]_ She hummed with a smile.

“My eyes? What about them?” Hvitserk asked as he received her hot loving kisses and the rigidity abandoned his body to leave it pliable once again.

After many many months by her side, he’d learned enough words in her tongue to at least understand her when she spoke, even if his mouth was still incapable of reproducing those same foreign noises. He wished he could be more like her who’d adopted his culture and his language as a second skin, even if she still communicated with him in her language when it was just the two of them.

_ “Tus ojos son como verde agua de mar…” [“Your eyes are like green seawater...”] _ Y/N’s voice was sultry and low, partly seductive, partly careful to not wake up their newborn twins and little Hvitserk, her firstborn. 

_“...me recuerdan al color del océano — ese que tanto extraño — antes de una tormenta...”_ _[“...they remind me of the color of the ocean that I miss so much right before a storm...”]_ She brought a hand to his chest again, this time to pull him on top of her and he flipped over willingly.

He settled between her thighs and kept on grinning like a fool. He often wished he could melt into her. The way he longed to have her close went beyond proximity; he actually wanted to disappear in her and make his home on her entrails. He would gladly give up his body… he could live through her if it meant their souls would never ever separate. 

_ “...y nunca me canso de mirarlos.” [“...and I never get tired of looking at them.”] _

Hvitserk’s heart leaped at the sound of her words because he adored her with a searing passion. She was his rock and safe harbor. The fragile ship of his life that had run aground so many times was not stranded on some doldrums at sea anymore. Y/N brought him peace and his heart had never been more full of love to give. 

**Author's Note:**

> Look me up on Tumblr! deans-ch-ch-cherrypie.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you want to support me: https://ko-fi.com/amyponders


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